


There is no red on the fields today

by martina_fiore



Series: Age Shall Not Weary Them Ver 1. [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - World War II, Gen, Historical, M/M, NedCan, Nedcan valentines, WW2, World War II, liberation of netherlands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-23 15:46:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18153842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/martina_fiore/pseuds/martina_fiore
Summary: It was red on battlefields, blood turning dull as they no longer served their purpose, but not today. The only red was the colours of the flowers they held. These were their spoils of war.WW2 NedCan





	There is no red on the fields today

25th April 1945

The war wasn’t over yet but there is no red on the fields today. Abel stood at the edge of the pathway looking out into a field that was almost bare, but had a quality of lightness that reflected the atmosphere of the world, long grass wavered to and fro next to sickly tulips. It’ll be over soon, Abel could feel it in the air, in the way that sunlight was caught on morning dews. Winter was no longer as harsh because their hunger was sated.

The German troops retreated from his hometown only a day before the Canadian troops entered. Their Canadian liberators were tired but triumphant. Strength rest on their shoulder and hope shone from their eyes as hope now shone from the eyes of his family and neighbours.  
Abel had brought out his camera from the basement, something he hid from the Wehrmacht. He had captured countless photos that depicted men and women from his town waving the Dutch flag, their pride restored because they were free. Abel’s camera saw children placing tulips in the hands of the Canadian soldiers, their smiles lighting up his heart and would continue to do so for many years afterwards.  
Abel himself placed two tulips in the hand of a soldier. A man whose eyes were of a shade of lavender brightened when he realised that the tulips were red and white. The same colours as the Canadian flag but in particular the ‚maple on white background‘ part of the Canadian coat-of-arm. The soldier pulled him into a tight embraced but was soon carried away by bustling crowd. Abel wished he could have asked the soldier for his name. 

A butterfly descended on to the camera lens, its soft blue wings ragged but it held strong. Such was the state of the Netherlands, they were still strong and they will fight, Abel thought to himself as he adjusted his scarf over his face. It was spring but his weak state left him with little strength to battle cool gusts.

He turned to head back to the town square where clamorous music echoed as the people continue on their second day of celebration when he saw a figure from the corner his eyes. Golden hair spilling across the man’s face, his glass glinting in the sun and his arm was outstretched to gather the breeze and nature into his embrace.  
It was the soldier.  
Abel quickly placed his camera infront of his eyes and captured the soldier just as he was turning to face Abel. ‚click‘

„You should have warned me. I would have try to look at least decent“, The man called to Abel across the field, the breeze lulling his voice into a whisper.  
„You look great nonetheless“, Abel called back to him and took several steps closer.  
The soldier smile and ran his hands over the long grass before turning his gaze towards the horizon. 

If this was what peace and hope was then Abel craved it, he needed it. The world was slowing down so that the only thing moving was the soldier whose eyes were the eyes of storms. Whose lips were the only red on the field that day. 

„What is your name?“ Abel asked optimistically, approaching the man through waist deep crops.  
„My name is Matthew and what is yours?“  
„My name is Abel…nice to meet you.“  
„You gave me the flowers when we first came right?“ Matthew pondered.  
„How did you manage to remember me? In all the crowds?“  
Matthew chuckled, replying „ Your scarf is unforgettable!“  
„Really? My scarf?“  
„No of course not, I remembered all their faces as they smiled at me and the boys. If there’s anything I get out of this war, the smiles of your people were payments to last a lifetime.“

There was no words to describe this feeling that they both felt. Was it joy? Was it love? Love for humanity? The silence between them was filled by nightingales and canaries, but the silence was not deafening…it was waiting to be breached.

Matthew murmured as Abel came to stand next to him, „I want you to have this, as a thank you for the tulips.“ Matthew took out a small wallet to rummage around, what he took out was a pressed maple leaf tinted with the purest reds of autumn. Abel observed that leaf faded into a precious gold as Matthew placed the leaf in his hands, he also realised that Matthew kept the tulip inside the wallet as well. 

There was no red on the field that day. Except for the red that they both held close to their hearts.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a Valentines exchange since I was a backup. Ned's name was originally Daan but it didn't fit well with me since I've read so many stories where his name was Abel. Habits die hard I guess. 
> 
> I would like to continue this. But I'll touch on other relationship as well. 
> 
> Originally posted with drawings here: https://the-cow-of-mordor.tumblr.com/post/183515790359/nedcanquen-hiiiii-im-not-your-original  
> I think the drawings bring the story to life.


End file.
